


Come Here Often?

by dvske



Series: Count the Ways [11]
Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Drabble, FEEL THE FLUFF, M/M, Roleplay, or an attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvske/pseuds/dvske
Summary: In which Grant can’t take things seriously to save his life; and Asher, despite himself, can’t fight off amusement.





	Come Here Often?

**Author's Note:**

> Per an anonymous request, Camerata Husband cuteness.
> 
> Inspired by [The Way You Said 'I Love You'](http://rhvme.tumblr.com/post/137729229293/) prompts via a lovely soul on tumblr. Prompt# 1, as a hello.

It was Sybil who suggested a change to their routine, a game to spice up their otherwise erratic day-to-day. Grant and Asher’s interactions often felt too brief, due not to any lack of trying on their respective parts. This wasn’t an issue of fading chemistry, just an issue of finding the time.

True, they’d spend long stretches on the phone whenever their schedules permitted. Otherwise there were flurries of texts, strings of emails spanning one bout of long distance after another. If Grant wasn’t out of town for the umpteenth board meeting, then Asher was too busy juggling interviews and deadlines. Skype dates went delayed or entirely canceled. Their days off would conflict. In equal turns, both men returned to either an empty apartment or a sleeping spouse they felt too guilty to rouse.

And in those rare moments they had together, awake enough to enjoy some peace of mind, what would they do?

_What do you mean ‘do?’_

_Do, Asher. Together. What do you and Grant do?_

_Nothing, really._

_For heaven’s sake._

Sybil would huff and puff her admonishment, cry out her disbelief. She’d lament their sorry state after just one year of marriage and declare that it simply would not do. Perfectly fine to spend nights lazing and lounging amidst takeout galore, but why settle for just that? Why not experiment, explore this city they now called home? They had to take advantage of its venues, shake things up now and then.

_Keep the romance alive, Asher._

_It’s not dead._

_Not yet._

And Asher, normally immune to her dramatics, couldn’t deny that they could stand to do more. Perhaps…

Okay.

So they could do more, sure. They could dedicate that once a month, one fleeting weekend of romantic gestures and Sybil-approved antics. What did she suggest, since she was so keen on the matter?

Role playing. A perfectly normal, perfectly healthy activity even the most seasoned couples enjoyed.

_You mean like…a strangers at a bar type deal?_

_Yes, love, that exactly. Red and I do it all the time._

_You get that bored with each other?_

_No, far from. That’s the point._

The point, she claimed, was to rediscover and reconnect. Hell, even reinvent. They could embrace those qualities that initially drew them together while adding new personas to the mix. No scenario was off limits.

_Just try it._

So.

Here Asher sat, drumming fingers on the bar and awaiting his husband turned complete stranger for the night. He'd even arrived early, had gone straight for a drink (or two) to quell the restless beating of his heart. He had talked Grant into this, true, and was eager to see where it led. He was nervous too. How far would they go? How would they break the ice? They’d only discussed the time and place, agreeing to improvise and play along as the night went on.

 _Wait and see._ Sybil’s voice, echoing in his head.

Then another. Grant’s.

The man had sauntered up without Asher noticing, bending low to croon in the blond's ear, “Hello there, beautiful. Do you have a name, or should I call you mine?”

Asher nearly snorted out his drink.

More than the question itself, it was Grant’s immediate laugh that had Asher rolling his eyes in exasperation. “A whole _world’s_ worth of pickup lines, and that’s the one you choose?”

“I thought it was clever.”

“It’s cheesy.”

“You like cheese.”

“I like when you’re not being a dork.”

“ _My,_ now.” Grant leaned back, feigning a pout and sliding into the neighboring chair. “Such biting words.”

Despite himself, Asher couldn’t fight back faint amusement. How at ease Grant seemed, as if this wasn’t their ‘first date’ at all. This was supposed to be his moment to ooze charm, to swoop in and whisper exactly where he preferred Asher’s bite, but…

Asher nudged him instead, regaining his composure. “Take this seriously.”

“Right. Of course.”

“From the top, then.”

And Grant cleared his throat, reigned in his expression. He matched Asher’s expectant gaze and replied, in the sultriest tone he could muster, “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“Oh my god.”

“No? Well do you at least know what’s on the menu tonight?” The briefest pause, a sly grin. “ME – N – U.”

“ _Grant._ ”

“What about this: If I could rearrange the letters in the alphabet—”

Asher bit his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle his laughter. Entirely too much, each line and delivery. The cliché, the classic, the ones he was certain Grant was making up on the spot. Grant was rattling them off without relent, sliding a hand onto Asher’s thigh all the while. Higher, still, in a slow caress that was doing more harm than good; it tickled, teased. It wasn’t long before Asher was burying his face in his hands, overtaken by laughter.

Stupid.

And Grant wouldn’t stop.

His grin broadened as he inched closer. “I’ve got more.”

“I don’t want to hear them!”

“I kind of think you do.”

So much for the role play, for the flirtations they had planned. No, Grant was intent on rendering Asher a giggling mess. Perhaps because this was their first outing in some time, the first night they didn't have to worry about the work day to follow. Perhaps because he hadn't been entirely sold on this idea from the start. This proved more fun than any game of pretend, any instance where they weren't already acquainted with each other's silly streaks.

The reason didn't seem to matter, and soon neither man seemed to care.

“I can’t take you _anywhere,_ ” Asher uttered into his palms.

He felt Grant’s arm wrapping around his shoulders. Warmth and infectious humor. “That’s why you love me.”

“Regrettably.”


End file.
